


Breathe (2AM)

by ChokolatteJedi



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, F/M, M/M, One Shot, Post - Hogwarts, Pre - Half-Blood Prince, Suicide, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-04-13
Updated: 2006-04-13
Packaged: 2017-10-14 04:39:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,862
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/145470
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChokolatteJedi/pseuds/ChokolatteJedi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>But, my God, it's so beautiful when the boy smiles...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Breathe (2AM)

**Author's Note:**

> Beta'd by the lovely and talented My Sweet Koinu

Draco didn’t want to go in. The room would be full of people who had never cared about Harry while he was still alive. But now that the boy wonder was dead, they suddenly pretended to care. Draco couldn’t deal with the falsities today of all days. Not without Harry. He wanted to let go of all his masks, all of his emotions, and just mourn for his beloved. But the insincere grief of the other wizards surrounding him felt stifling to Draco. As he stared at the doors, he felt a presence behind him and smiled a tiny smile. It would be Blaise and Ginny, he knew it. They had always stood by Harry and Draco.

Sixth year, when the boys had come out with their relationship, Harry had been thrown out of Gryffindor tower by his outraged housemates. The Slytherins, for the most part, had welcomed him, and when Ginny was shunned for supporting the couple, she too had fled to the snake pit, eventually hooking up with Blaise.

The Gryffindors had never come around, and at the end of seventh year, it was Slytherins who backed Harry in the final battle, fighting against parents and housemates. But it wasn’t enough. Harry had actually killed the Dark Lord with- well not ease, but by using wandless magic he had overcome the _Priori Incatatem_ problem and had killed Voldemort about three hours into the battle.

Unfortunately, while drawing up the energy to cast the curse wandlessly, Harry had been unable to cast any defensive spells. When his shields failed, he was hit with numerous curses, and Draco couldn’t get to him in time. As he bundled up the dying teen, preparing to apparate to St. Mungo’s, Harry had stopped him.  
 _  
“It’s too late, Love.” Harry said, breathing deeply._

 _“No,” Draco protested tears coursing down his cheeks, “it can’t be. I’ll get you to St. Mungo’s- Poppy is there- and she’ll fix you up fine. One she stops grumbling about how often you have to go see her.”_

 _Harry tried to chuckle, but coughed instead, and Draco sank slowly to the ground, not wanting to jostle him. When he could finally breathe again Harry smiled weakly. “I’m sorry Draco. I wanted to have a life with you, no one else ordering us around.”_

 _Draco knew there was nothing he could say, so he leaned over and kissed Harry, kissed him as tenderly as he could, and Harry returned the gesture willingly. Finally Draco pulled away and looked down at his lover, seeing those impossibly deep green eyes close one last time, a serene smile spreading on Harry’s face._

 _The smile was beautiful, lighting up Harry’s entire face. Draco had never seen his lover look so peaceful before, even asleep. He probably hadn’t even looked so peaceful when he was a young boy. Harry was at last free: free of Dark Lords and defense training, free of manipulations and bureaucracy, free of backstabbing and betrayal. Finally free of the world’s burden, and the sight made Draco cry all the harder.  
_  
And now, a week later, it seemed like most of the wizarding world was gathered to say goodbye to their savior, as though they had never left him in the first place. Draco felt a burning rage in his chest and just knew he couldn’t face them. Ginny and Blaise were behind him, silently supporting him, and at last Ginny put one hand on Draco’s shoulder. She squeezed gently, stepping up next to the blonde. “Ready?” She asked softly, her own eyes reflecting the sorrow, love, and anger he felt. That look was enough to restore Draco’s barriers, and he took a deep breath before stepping up to the door.

Ginny dropped back and he opened it, walking into the large room full of mourners. The speeches would be made, Harry’s posthumous Order of Merlin awarded, and then they would go out into the Godric’s Hollow Cemetery, where Harry would be buried beside his parents.

As everyone took their seats and the murmuring decreased, Fudge approached the platform at the front of the room and quickly awarded the Order of Merlin, First Class, to Harry, handing the medal to Draco. A burst of surprised murmuring broke out when Ginny rose next. Harry had been quite specific in his will about who was and was not allowed to speak at his funeral, knowing certain Gryffindors would try to change the story. Ginny cleared her throat and began to speak.

“When I was a first year, Harry saved me from dying at Voldemort’s hands,” she began bluntly. “After that, I became his confidant. Yes, he was friends with Ron and Hermione, but I was the one he talked to when things were at their worst, because I was the only other one to come face to face with Voldemort in my life. I knew best how he was feeling.”

“Just before Christmas my fourth year, Harry called on me in the middle of the night. He rode his Firebolt to my window and we sat on the Astronomy tower and talked until dawn. He had tried to kiss a girl, and, aside from being rather traumatized, was now convinced he did not like girls in that way at all. Being Muggle-raised, he was confused and very worried. I reassured him that despite what his Muggle relatives had told him, being gay wasn’t considered evil in our world.”

“Almost exactly a year later, on another of our chats, he told me that he liked Draco Malfoy. In his words, they had been ‘Kind-of-talking-and-stuff-but-more-than-just-like-friends-like-us-but-they-hadn’t-done-more-than-kiss-and-what-did-that-mean?’” Ginny laughed softly. “I told Harry to do whatever his heart told him to. They continued dating in secret until shortly before Easter break.”

“And then we discovered that the accepting, tolerant, wizarding world my parents had told me about when I was younger didn’t seem to exist. The entire Gryffindor house, my family and our Head included, immediately attacked Harry, verbally and physically: trashing his belonging, beating him up, and throwing him out of the tower. In hindsight, we should have seen it coming. After all, much the same thing had happened Harry’s second, fourth, and fifth years. Nevertheless we were surprised.”

“So Harry and I moved into the Slytherin dorms, where we would be safe. Think of that, we had to run from Gryffindor, the noble, loyal, house of light, just to stay alive. Those of you who were in Hogwarts at the time know this part. You know about the daily and then weekly beatings that we received, the ones the teachers ignored. You know about stealing Harry’s photo album of his parents, the only reminder he had of them, and burning it. You know about us being kicked off the Gryffindor house team and Harry’s Firebolt being destroyed.”

Most of the other members of the audience were looking ill, as were quite a few of the students, but Ginny ploughed on, this time glaring directly at her brother and Hermione. “And yet, at the end of sixth year, Harry still went up against Voldemort, alone, and almost died to save the two Gryffindors who had hurt him the most. Harry almost died again for you, but it was not enough for you to accept him… Second year, he had to kill a basilisk, fourth year it was fighting a dragon, fifth he had to convince you all of Voldemort’s return while Umbridge punished him for it daily.”

“And this time he had to die for your forgiveness.” Ginny’s eyes filled with tears and her voice was softer, but it did not break as she swept her gaze around the room. “You have forgiven him the great sin of falling in love, because he died to save you all. What will you do to earn his forgiveness in turn? Even if he were still with us, nothing you could think of would be enough.” Ginny let the silence hang for a moment before she turned and walked back to her seat, where Blaise instantly wrapped his arms around her.

Draco stood and walked forward, refusing to meet anyone’s eye. “I know some of you may doubt her words,” he said quietly, “but everything Ginny said was true. There is, however, one thing she forgot. Long before he came to Hogwarts, Harry was manipulated, honed into a tool for the light, for killing. Even when he was happiest, even when he was asleep, those responsibilities- that weight- never left him.”

“If Harry were… If Harry were still alive, he would still be enslaved by the leaders of the light. No matter how many Death Eaters and Dark Lords he killed, he would never be free, because he had already been… _programmed_ ,” He spat. “He already felt the weight on his shoulders: felt the responsibility for those who should have been protecting him, felt the guilt in his heart for deaths he couldn’t have saved. He had been taught that he was just a tool, and he believed it.”

“At first I wished for a time-turner, despite the evidence that none had been used, but then I remembered Harry’s face as he died. He was finally happy, and I would never deny him that. Now, Harry is free of you all. He bought his freedom the only way he could; not by winning, but by _dying._ Think of that the next time you attempt to place the weight of the entire world on the back of a child,” his eyes swept to Dumbledore, then Fudge, “because if you don’t, then you _will_ be forced to think of it again, when you have to bury _that_ child.”

Draco walked back to his seat, barely conscious of Ginny wrapping her arms around him, of Blaise’s quiet tears, or of the rest of the funeral passing him by. He dimly recalled being taken back to Blaise’s home, and walking into the guest room. All he could think of was Harry’s face during that moment on the battlefield, that look of blissful rest that he yearned to share in.

He sat at the desk and picked up a quill, determined to write what was needed. The next time a Dark Lord rose, and it would happen again, Draco knew, another child would be destroyed in the process. Late into the night Draco wrote, trying to tell their story. He thought maybe a day passed, as a plate of toast appeared by his side. But Draco couldn’t stop until the story bottled inside of him was told. The next time some unlucky child found himself in the same life of servitude Harry had, he would be warned. He wouldn’t be alone.

When he finally finished the letter, Draco wrote a quick note to Blaise and Ginny and lay down on the bed. He had no idea what day it was, how long it had been. He only knew that now he could rest too. Pulling out the vial that had rested in his pocket since that final battle, Draco quickly drank the potion and closed his eyes. Free at last to join his beloved, he took one final breath as the clock on the wall chimed twice.

**Author's Note:**

>  **  
> "Breathe (2 AM)"  
>  By Anna Nalick  
> **  
> 2 AM and he calls me 'cause I'm still awake,  
> "Can you help me unravel my latest mistake?,  
> I don't love her. Winter just wasn't my season"  
> Yeah we walk through the doors, so accusing their eyes  
> Like they have any right at all to criticize,  
> Hypocrites. You're all here for the very same reason
> 
> 'Cause you can't jump the track, we're like cars on a cable  
> And life's like an hourglass, glued to the table  
> No one can find the rewind button, girl.  
> So cradle your head in your hands  
> And breathe... just breathe,  
> Oh breathe, just breathe
> 
> In May he turned 21 on the base at Fort Bliss  
> "Just a day," he said down to the flask in his fist,  
> "Ain't been sober, since maybe October of last year."  
> Here in town you can tell he's been down for a while,  
> But, my God, it's so beautiful when the boy smiles,  
> Wanna hold him. Maybe I'll just sing about it.
> 
> Cause you can't jump the track, we're like cars on a cable,  
> And life's like an hourglass, glued to the table.  
> No one can find the rewind button, boys,  
> So cradle your head in your hands,  
> And breathe... just breathe,  
> Oh breathe, just breathe
> 
> There's a light at each end of this tunnel,  
> You shout 'cause you're just as far in as you'll ever be out  
> And these mistakes you've made, you'll just make them again  
> If you only try turning around.
> 
> 2 AM and I'm still awake, writing a song  
> If I get it all down on paper, it's no longer inside of me,  
> Threatening the life it belongs to  
> And I feel like I'm naked in front of the crowd  
> Cause these words are my diary, screaming out loud  
> And I know that you'll use them, however you want to
> 
> But you can't jump the track, we're like cars on a cable,  
> And life's like an hourglass, glued to the table  
> No one can find the rewind button now  
> Sing it if you understand.  
> and breathe, just breathe  
> woah breathe, just breathe,  
> Oh breathe, just breathe,  
> Oh breathe, just breathe.
> 
> (I made a minor adjustment to the lyrics, just gender switching in the first stanza.)


End file.
